It was a close call but Stonehenge won. Off we went for round two, and I did think that really not much out of the ordinary would happen. There was an immediate realisation that the wind was actually a howling gale, and Baltic cold. Clothing error with the boys thin raincoats but still, I figured they wouldn't be standing still much. Off we went on the bus, all good.
There was the same manic screeching 'wheels on the bus' rendition from Rufus.
There were highs and lows from the start, including some foreign tourists trying to take pictures of the boys, to which before I could think of any response, they responded perfectly for me. Hector screamed 'he touched me' (he hadn't, it was me ruffling his hair) and Rufus shouting (anyone that knows him, knows the volume this kid has capacity for) 'it's an alien, AN ALIEN!!'. Anyway, it was a little awkward as with the stop start nature of the crowds we basically we're always near to these two weird dudes. We pondered Stonehenge a little more this time. Hector was fairly sure that under the stone was glass. And Rufus thought there may be a bouncy castle in the middle. To which, he did actually slip under the small, ankle height rope 'deterrent' and make a run for the stones. As if in undercover operation two English Heritage staff were on him, guiding a sulky wild haired Rufus back to me. (The two things I thought here were, that they are way more switched on that National Trust staff, and also I could really do with them, with me, at every point in my life to do exactly what they do best! Retrieve my child/children for me!).
Anyway, we had lunch. Fairly uneventful, apart from some wanker woman who judged my 'cheers'ing rufus and his drink?! And when her little sprog asked to cheers her, loudly and haughtily said (blatantly put on for maximum judgement levels) 'I don't think saying cheers to a child is very appropriate, no Thomas just drink your apple juice'. My two further thoughts on this was based on the three words 'for, fucks and sake'. The first one being that I wished I'd gone over and quietly muttered into her ear (once I'd gotten past the wirey barnet on her head) 'I think that there are way less appropriate things I say all the time, a little like struggling to mask grumbling, for fucks sake, when one of my darlings moans Muuuummmmmyyy at me for the millionth time before 9am'.
The second thought was that little Thomas probably was thinking of the same three words at that very time. Well that was a right long rant.
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